


Gently As She Rises

by thtvrywitch



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 08:11:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thtvrywitch/pseuds/thtvrywitch
Summary: Elain has decided she wants to learn how to fight.





	Gently As She Rises

Gently As She Rises

 

Elain ran, skirts bunched tightly in her fists. She couldn’t recall the last time she ran anywhere, at least recently. She ran fast enough that some distant part of her mind wondered if her feet even touched the porch steps as she flew through the front door, desperate to get to Lucien.

“I want you to teach me how to fight.” Her words came suddenly, breathlessly as she burst through the threshold of the kitchen, stopping just shy of the table.

Lucien paused, startled, the mug of tea he was intending to drink not quite reaching his lips, “Hello to you too, dove.”

Cheeks flushing, Elain took a moment to compose herself and remember her manners. She had been gone most of the morning, Feyre having invited her to breakfast. Really, she had invited them both, but Lucien had insisted he much preferred the company of sleep. What her sister had failed to mention, however, was that they would be setting up a picnic blanket to dine upon while they watched Cassian train Nesta in the distance. Though certainly not their first match, it was the first match Elain had borne witness to. The initial realization of the would-be morning endeavors had given her great anxiety, yet it turned out to be an enjoyable experience. Though she wished no harm upon her elder sister, it was amusing seeing Nesta made to fight with something other than her sharp tongue and seething impatience.  

Smiling apologetically, Elain joined her pretty red headed mate where he sat at the table, brushing a light kiss across his scarred cheek, “I think I got ahead of myself. How has your morning been?”         

His golden metal eye whirled as he studied her carefully, “Not nearly as enlightening, it seems.” He sat his mug down, opting instead to lay his hands on the table, palms up. “What happened? Does blood and bits of decomposing fae make for good fertilizer after all?” His lips twitched as he held back a grin.

She ignored his teasing and accepted his silent offer, placing her hands in his, the tips of her slender fingers tracing the veins of his wrists. Whether his hands were warm from the mug or the fire that coursed through those very veins, she didn’t know. What she did know is that they felt like home. Safe, welcoming, comforting. Perhaps they felt as such because they were mates, perhaps because she loved him, or perhaps because she knew what those hands were capable of were she ever in danger. Lucien could protect her. But it dawned on her as she watched Cassian dodge Nesta’s right hook earlier that morning- she couldn’t protect him.

She could love him, she could offer him every emotional comfort in the world. But she couldn’t fight for him, not with a weapon and most certainly not with her body. She had been lucky with Hybern. Had he not been lost in his own narcissistic blood lust, she never would have landed that fatal blow. Were they to ever face such danger again, luck wasn’t a guarantee. It was a silly thing to solely rely upon.

“I want to defend those I love. Eternity is a long time to never run into trouble.” She sighed, focusing intently on the lines she traced along his wrists, “I could never take pleasure in senseless violence.” Her voice lowered, “The Gods know I couldn’t even find a hint of it when the violence was justified. Necessary even.” Her thoughts flashed to Hybern, his sword raised and poised to strike down her sister and the man she was ready to die defending; of herself the moment Truth-Teller transfixed the ruthless king’s throat. She shook her head, wanting to disperse the thoughts before they took on clear, detailed forms. “I don’t want to sit on the sidelines hoping and praying for the best while my family and friends risk their lives. While _you_ risk your life. It hardly seems fair.”

Lucien was quiet for a long moment, “You hate fighting.” It wasn’t a rebuttal, merely a fact.

“I know.” Her focus shifted from his wrists to his handsome, marred face.

He was watching her intently, as if he were searching for something. Unsure of what else to say, she fidgeted in her seat and chose to return her attention to their joined hands. She was used to Lucien’s attention, reveled in it even. But sometimes it was hard to tell what he was thinking. It was a mutual agreement to keep certain aspects of their bond secure in order to retain some form of personal autonomy. A point important to both. They had nothing to hide, distrust was a thing of the past once they learned to understand one another. In fact, they would often send thoughts and feelings silently down the bond. Many nights they would open up completely for one another. But as a most basic and day to day respect for one another, they kept the access to their minds selective and private. Yet now she wished she could pry the gates to his mind open. Or that he would at the very least send something, anything, down the bond as he mulled over her request.

It wasn't necessarily that she needed his permission or approval, that wasn’t what she was asking. She valued his opinion on the matter. His opinion and his aide.

“ _Lucien_.” Inwardly she cringed, her tone more pleading than she intended as his named passed over her lips.

“Yes?”

“This is one of those moments where I would very much like to know what you’re thinking.”

The ghost of a smile played at his mouth, “The thought of you knocking someone on their ass is amusing but very un-Elain like.”

She nodded, relaxing some as she sat back in her seat, hands clasped in her lap, “So you’ll consider it?”

“No.”

She shot out of her seat, “ _No_?” She wasn’t sure who was more surprised by her outburst.

Still, Lucien remained seated, calmly reaching for his mug, “No.” He took a sip.

Elain’s hands flew to her hips as she stared her stubborn, infuriating mate down, “And why not? I thought I had fairly acceptable reasoning.”

“You do,” he admitted, his face serious and tone passive, “but there is nothing to consider.”

Elain felt her eyes widen and her hands remained on her hips. Her mouth had tightened into a thin line. There was no doubt a flush to her cheeks, if the heat in her face was any indication. What was she to say? Oh, there were many things she _could_ say but none of them were lady like and she would only feel massive guilt the minute the words rolled off her tongue. Instead she chose to remain silent. Frustratingly, bitingly silent as she stared the male she loved down.

Lucien’s single russet eye gleamed, “You look like you want to put _me_ on my ass.”

“Given half the chance, I might consider it.”

This resulted in a short bark of laughter from the male, “So much for not enjoying senseless violence.”

“I would feel terrible about it,” she acknowledged, crossing her arms over her chest, “but you would deserve it.” She sniffed, turning her nose up at him.

He laughed again, “There’s nothing to consider because I agree.”

Her gaze snapped to meet his, “But you said-”

“I don’t need time to consider anything.” He explained, gently pulling his lovely mate into his lap, arms circling around her waist. “If you want to learn, we’ll see to it that you learn. You’re your own person, Elain. If this is something you want, I’m on board.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “But I do enjoy getting a rise out of you.”

She pulled a section of his fiery hair through her fingers and began braiding while she spoke, “You are the best and the worst person I have ever met.”

His hand flew up to his chest, feigning heartbreak, “I’m hurt, Elain.”

“As if you don’t strive to be as such every single day.”

“Only every _other_ day, thank you.”

She laughed, continuing to braid his hair as they lapsed into comfortable silence. Something in her fluttered as his fingers danced idly along the small of her back and she spared herself a glance from her work on his hair. Though his eyes were closed, she knew he was lost in thought. Lost in thought and likely enjoying the feel of her fingers gently working his hair. Her eyes wandered to the scar that marred his beautiful face. She loved every part of Lucien, and as that scar was very much a part of him, she loved it as well. Yet there was always an underlying bout of rage that longed to claw its way from somewhere deep within her when she thought about it. Though before their time, she wanted to make the monster who put it there pay. He had been hurt. Torn open and bleeding, and nobody had stopped it from happening. Nobody had protected him. She wondered if anyone had tried.

But the monster had paid, and no matter how great the rage in her belly, Elain knew she couldn’t have done anything. Fae more skilled than her couldn’t have done anything. But perhaps she could prevent future harm from coming to him. Lucien _deserved_ to be fought for, protected.

His voice broke her from her thoughts, “Have you thought of who you would like to train you?”

“Ah.” She paused, “Actually, I was hoping you would teach me.”

His eyes flew open, metal eye whirling, “ _Me_?”

“Yes. Feyre is skilled no doubt, but she has much she’s still learning. Besides, she has other obligations being High Lady. And truth be told, the idea of training with Cassian or even Azriel is terrifying.” The thought alone triggered her fight or flight senses and being that she didn’t know how to fight, flight was the only option, “I don’t doubt that any of them would take the time if I asked. However, you are my first choice. I think Prythian’s sly fox has much to offer.” A smile played across her lips.

Lucien wasn’t brutal like Cassian, or a spymaster like Azriel. But he was strong, he was graceful with any weapon he wielded, and he possessed a cunning prowess so great, it had proven to be both lethal and lifesaving. Depending which side of his good graces one happened to be on. He was a force to be reckoned with in his own right, and she felt in her heart she would benefit more from anything he had to offer her. If he offered her such things.

He was quiet for a moment as he mulled over her request, “I suppose this is where the consideration you want comes into play.”

She nodded but otherwise remained silent, allowing him time to think.

He studied her carefully, his gentle Elain. He studied the subtle golden flecks in the brown of her eyes, the light dusting of freckles across her delicate nose and pretty pink cheeks. His attention dropped to her mouth as she chewed nervously on her bottom lip, then slowly he shifted his focus. Her golden-brown hair was loose today, flowing in graceful waves over her shoulders and down her back. The mid-morning light flowing through the kitchen window only made her look more angelic in nature.

It was difficult to picture her on the battlefield. Elain was the softest soul he had encountered in his centuries of life. Still the fact remained that is was _Elain_ who drove that dagger through the king’s throat, it was _Elain_ who saved countless lives, human and fae alike. Were it not for her bravery and quick action, they all may very well be rotting six feet in the ground or mere ashes on the wind.

Elain was gentle, Elain was soft, and Elain was kind. However, she was also braver, fiercer, and more capable than many had ever given her credit for. This wonderful female who sang to flowers to help them grow, cried when she encountered baby animals, whose endless patience continue to help Lucien heal every day, abhorred violence and death. Yet here she was, willing to learn to fight to protect those she loved.

Who was he to deny her anything, least of all that?

“If this is what you want,” he spoke slowly, “it would be my pleasure.”

At his words, her countenance lit up, and she peppered sweet kisses all over his face, thanking him over and over between each one. He was taken aback by her joy but relished in the affection none the less.

With laughter in his voice, he continued, “We can begin as soon as you’re ready.”

She pulled back slightly, enough so that she could look him in the eye, “Tomorrow. Bright and early. And Lucien,” she paused, bringing her hands to cup either side of his face, “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. One day I’ll be skilled enough to protect everyone I love, and it’ll be because of your guidance.”

“I disagree, dove. I merely offer you the ability.” He responded seriously. “How you use those abilities will have everything to do with what makes you who you are.” His hands griped her waist, “It will be entirely _you_.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ask powerful as Feyre or as volatile as Nesta, but I would like to think I could offer something.”

He pulled her closer, “I believe you already offer more than you give yourself credit for, and with time you’ll keep up with your sisters, even Feyre.” His eyes flickered to her mouth then back to those warm, brown eyes. “I don’t believe it’s fair to compare yourself to them. You’re all so different from one another, and if wielded carefully, the different strengths and weaknesses between the three will greatly balance out.”

Her heart swelled, and she leaned into kiss him, but before their lips could meet, she pulled back. The action earned her a small sound of protest much from her mate, much to her amusement. “I have just one more thing I need to thank you for.”

He raised one red brow but otherwise made no effort to speak.

“Thank you for believing in me.”

His gaze softened, and her lips descended eagerly upon his, sealing any chance he had at speaking. Not that he minded.

Elain was gentle, Elain was soft, and Elain was kind. She loved with every fiber of her being. Because of that love, she was, in his mind, a force all her own.  A force that, for as long as she so desired, he would help to strengthen and grow until she was satisfied.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written in years, as an attempt to get back into the swing of things. I hope anyone who may read this enjoys it! I appreciate any comments and kudos, if you feel I deserve them.


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